


If You Insist

by quinngrey



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 05:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13827360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinngrey/pseuds/quinngrey
Summary: In which Mairon's curse, muttered under his breath, leads to Melkor fucking him senseless.





	If You Insist

**Author's Note:**

> Someone drew an art for this fic!!!! 
> 
> http://ttrtru.tumblr.com/post/171415894700/a-fanart-for-quinngrey-s-angbang-fic-if-you

“Oh, fuck you,” he spat under his breath, frustration clear in his tone.

“Well, if you insist.”

It was far from the response he expected, though truly he should have known better than to expect anything less. The air seemed to thicken, the predatory gaze on him making his skin crawl. The sudden invasion of his space had him stumbling backward, hands coming up defensively as the other stepped forward, but there was no such luck. Hard and solid at his hip, the table wobbled as he hit it, scrambling and sputtering about how he had hardly meant it in the literal sense. 

“I didn’t mean- oh come on,” he muttered as the hands pulled at the clasps of his robes, the lacing on his breeches. “My lord!” Gasp ringing out in the empty smithy, the maia’s back arched at the feel of rough fingers shoving down the front of his pants, encircling his soft cock and giving it a firm tug. His knees felt immediately weak as the other hovered just far enough that their bodies weren’t touching. Hips seeked out some sort of contact, his fiery eyes met the immeasurably dark gaze of his master’s. 

Melkor’s smirk was playful, despite their earlier heated disagreement. There was something in the way that he turned the situation until his lieutenant was struggling not to drop all of his defenses and anger that seemed to amuse the Vala. How Mairon could insist on continuing to fight, as if his arousal wasn’t bubbling to the surface, was entertaining after all.

“If it wasn’t what you meant,” Melkor purred, threat lingering as his deep voice reverberated through the hot air, “perhaps you ought watch your tongue.”

Charred hand ripping at the flimsy tunic to expose Mairon’s chest, the Vala dipped his head to nip punishingly at the corporeal flesh at the other’s clavicle, sucking a harsh mark into the fair skin as a reminder of his ownership. His rough fingers plucked at the pert nipple, tugging at the golden ring pierced through the delicate nub. 

The move had elicited a hiss from the lieutenant, Mairon’s hands trying desperately to push his master back. It was no use, though, as the being before him was unyielding and sturdy. The hand at down his pants twisted down his length once more before releasing him long enough for Melkor to hoist the maia onto the workbench behind him. The feel of teeth tugging at his nipple, pulling at the ring there, had him cursing under his breath, distracted as the other forced his breeches off his hips until they could be unceremoniously cast to the floor. 

“No,” he snapped as he felt his master spreading his legs, struggling to kick the other back from him. “We are not doing this! Not here, not now! This is why we never get any work done! And if someone were to walk in, my lord-”

“You worry too much,” Melkor cut him off with a blackened finger against Mairon’s lips. “Let anyone interrupt, let them see you debauched at my hand. War can wait.”

Grabbing the foot that pushed at his chest, he hoisted the leg over his shoulder as he took a knee, mouth finding the crevice between the maia’s thigh and groin. Licking a hot stripe across the delicate skin, he could feel Mairon shudder underneath his ministrations. 

Keening at the feel of his master’s mouth, the Maia’s head fell back as a breathless whine pushed past his lips. No sooner did his eyes close, they flew open once more. Stars graced his vision as a rough tongue slipped down ever further, lavishing his puckered hole. Legs shaking, he tried in earnest to grind down toward the wet intrusion, warning his hip a firm swat. 

“Needy, are we? My little flame,” Melkor all but cooed, voice darkened with lust. “Stay still.”

Heeding the command was near impossible, especially once the tongue found him once more. Dipping inside the tight ring of muscle, Mairon gasped for breath, desperate to follow the order, but similarly desperate to seek his pleasure. Biting hard into the flesh of his own lip, the taste of metal filled his mouth. “Master, please- ah!”

Two charred fingers breached Mairon and, despite his attempt to remain as still as he could, his back arched up off the table as a pitiful whine escaped him. The stretch was more than he had anticipated so soon, burning, although Melkor’s tongue worked the muscle all the while. Hot, slick, and stretching him quickly, the Vala did not hesitate to fuck the other with the two digits, curling them upward until the other was seeing stars. 

Tongue slipping upward toward the other’s perineum, Melkor pushed a third finger into his maia. This was more preparation that he typically offered, and by the Valar, Mairon was already so close to his peak. It felt as if he might not last much longer, pushing himself back against the invading fingers with desperation. 

“My Lord, please,” he begged, “please, please, please… I need- ah, I need!” His words were breathless, all care of location or being walked in on far from his mind now. The Vala withdrew his mouth and those dark eyes, like pits of blame flame, set gaze upon Mairon as he watched him writhe. 

Mairon was quite the sight like this, three fingers deep inside of him, panting and begging for mercy. His auburn hair spread across the mahogany, throat exposed, head thrown back. The wisps of flame seeming to emanate from him, illuminating him in an unmistakable glow. So deep was he, so close to losing himself in the sensation.

The abrupt withdrawal of those perfect fingers drew an embarrassingly high whimper from him, head snapping up to give his master a glare. Try as he might, the malice was missing from it, only desperation left in its wake. As the Vala rose once more, his fingers trailed across the other’s body until they reached Mairon’s mouth and plunged inside. The maia tried to pull his mouth away from the taste of himself, but Melkor’s hand grabbed his jaw and forced it open once more.

“Suck.”

Disgust at himself at the coiling heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, Mairon obeyed and sucked the digits before him with all the ardor he could muster. Eyes never leaving his master, he drew his tongue between those charred digits until Melkor deemed him finished. 

“Such a good boy you are,” he laughed, tapping Mairon’s face with the damp fingers before taking a full step backward and away from the maia’s heaving form. Swiftly he turned and walked back to his seat at the head of the table, revealing his own thick cock.

“Hands and knees, little flame. Come to me, across the table.”

Flushed deeply from the tips of his ears, down his chest, to his cock, Mairon fumbled to get to his hands and knees. The stiffness between his thighs made it all the more difficult, but slowly he made his way to the other. As the Vala watched him, he leaned back, hand stroking his length mindlessly. The sight of it, knowing full well what he was expected to do, made him ache with need. How quickly he was reduced to this, the fire from him that had once burned bright with frustrating had so fast been replaced with anticipation and lust. 

Humming with delight at the image before him, Melkor gestured to his arousal and raised a mere brow. Without hesitation, Mairon managed to slip onto the other’s lap, knees on either side of the Vala’s hips. His flesh was still so sensitive, and damned as he was knowing they didn’t have a sufficient lubricant, he did not wait for further instruction. Spitting into his own hand, he slipped the slick hand between his legs to dampen his hole before taking his master’s cock and guiding it inside him. 

Pain blinded him, eyes shutting tightly as he went utterly silent for the first time since they began. He willed himself to relax, to accept what had been so graciously given to him. His pleasure was a mere second thought to that of his master’s, he sternly reminded himself. Forcing his hips downward inch by agonising inch, he shuddered when at last he was fully seated.

As his eyes opened, hooded in a mixture of agonizing pain and undeniable pleasure, the vision of his master watching him was enough of a reminder that this was truly a gift. The Vala’s usually amused smirk had been replaced with something so utterly sinful. Without thought, his blood stained lips crashed against Melkor’s, his arms wrapping about the other’s neck as he rocked against the cock within him. 

Melkor did not deny him.

In the few moments that their mouths sought each other, heated and full of passion, the Vala’s hands took Mairon’s hips firmly. Thrusting up into him, a guttural groan formed deep in his chest, spurred the maia on further. His lithe body took the quickly set unrelenting pace, the intrusion, the force. A particularly violent thrust had him keening, mouth unable to form any sort of coherent sound against the other’s lips. Cock hitting him just right, he felt the beginning of losing himself, tightening around his master’s cock unconsciously.

“Come, now.”

Untouched, Mairon’s cock twitched and streaks of white coated the space between their bodies, the other’s demand enough to push him over the edge with a dizzying intensity. His entire body had tensed, fingers and toes curling, his vision blurring before his eyes closed once more.

Melkor’s own peak came with a few more shallow thrusts into the tight heat of his maia, spilling inside of him until he was fully spent and satiated. Staying inside Mairon until his cock began to soften, their breath evening out, his withdraw was far less jarring. The Vala hoisted his little flame up onto the table, eyes watching his seed drip from Mairon’s abused hole just a moment longer.

“Master...?” 

Mairon looked positively debauched, his skin flushed and hair mussed. His glazed over expression flickered confused, but Melkor merely brought a hand up to push the matted auburn hair back from the other’s face. The smile that crossed his face was almost gentle, almost loving, but all too soon it faded. Melkor rose to his feet, adjusting his robes, and stood straighter. 

“Clean yourself up, Luitenant. Anyone could walk in and see you like this.”

And with that, he left the maia alone to collect himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't judge me too harshly. It's been a really long time since I've actually written a fic. 
> 
> If anyone ever wants to rp Silm stuff, find me on tumblr @quinngreyy


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